his own work in the garden, to do Will's work in the house while he got drunk, or read the Rights of Man.

cried Trueman in a high tone, to expect that the overseers will be more humane than yourself! But is it possible you can have sent that helpless creature, not only to walk, but to carry a naked child, at such a time of night, to a place so distant, so ill provided, and in such a condition? I hope at least you have furnished them with clothes; for all their own little stores were burnt.' Not I, indeed;' said Fantom. What is the use of parish officers, but to look after these petty things?

The little dwelling of Jenkins burnt very furiously. Mr. Trueman's exertions were of the greatest service. He directed the willing, and gave an example to the slothful. By living in London, he had been more used to the calamity of fire than the country people, and knew better what was to be done. In the midst of the bustle he saw one woman only who never attempted to be of the least use. She ran backwards and forward, It was Mr. Trueman's way, when he bewringing her hands, and crying out in a tone gan to feel very angry, not to allow himself of piercing agony, 'Oh, my child! my little to speak; because, he used to say, if I Tommy! will no one save my Tommy?- give vent to my feelings, I am sure, by some Any woman might have uttered the same hasty word, to cut myself out work for rewords, but the look which explained them pentance.' So without making any answer, could only come from a mother. Trueman did not stay to ask if she were owner of the house, and mother of the child. It was his way to do all the good which could be done first, and then to ask questions. All he said was, Tell me which is the room?' The poor woman, now speechless through terror, could only point up to a little window in the thatch, and then sunk on the ground.

Mr. Trueman made his way through a thick smoke, and ran up the narrow stair case which the fire had not reached. He got safely to the loft, suatched up the little creature, who was sweetly sleeping in its poor hammock, and brought him down naked in his arms and as he gave him to the halfdistracted mother, he felt that her joy and gratitude would have been no bad pay for the danger he had run, even if no higher motive had set him to work. Poor Jenkins, half stupified by his misfortune, had never thought of his child; and his wife, who expected every hour to make him father to a second, had not been able to do any thing towards saving little Tommy.

or even changing his clothes, which were very wet and dirty from having worked so hard at the fire, he walked out again, having first inquired the road the woman had taken. At the door he met Mrs. Fantom returning from her visit. He told her his tale; which she had no sooner heard, than she kindly resolved to accompany him in search of Jenkins's wife. She had a wide common to walk over before she cou d reach either the workhouse or the nearest cottage She had crawled along with her baby as far as she was able; but having met with no refreshment at Mr. Fanton's, and her strength quite failing her, she had sunk down on the middle of the common. Happily, Mr Trueman and Mrs. Fantom came up at this very time. The former had had the precaution to bring a cordial; and the latter had gone back and stuffed her pockets with old baby linen. Mr. Trueman soon procured the assistance of a labourer, who happened to pass by, to help him to carry the mother, and Mrs. Fantom carried the little shivering baby.

As soon as they were safely lodged, Mr. Mr. Trueman now put the child into miss Trueman set off in search of poor Jenkins, Fantom's apron, saying, Did not I tell you, who was distressed to know what was become my dear, that every body could be of use at of his wife and child; for having heard that a fire? He then desired her to carry the they were seen going towards Mr. Fantom's, child home, and ordered the poor woman to he despaired of any assistance from that follow her; saying, he would return himself quarter. Mr. Trueman felt no small satisas soon as he had seen all safe in the cottage. faction in uniting this poor man to his little When the fire was quite out, and Mr. family. There was something very moving Trueman could be of no further use, he went in this meeting, and in the pious gratitude back to Mr. Fantom's. The instant he they expressed for their deliverance. They opened the parlour door he eagerly cried out, seemed to forget they had lost their all, in Where is the poor woman, Mr. Fantom? the joy they felt that they had not lost each Not in my house, I assure you,' answered other. And some disdainful great ones the philosopher. Give me leave to tell you, might have smiled to see so much rapture exit was a very romantic thing to send her and pressed at the safety of a child born to no inher child to me: you should have provided heritance but poverty. These are among for them at once, like a prudent man.'-I the feelings with which Providence somethought I had done so,' replied Trueman, times overpays the want of wealth. The by sending them to the nearest and best good people also poured out prayers and bleshouse in the parish, as the poor woman seem- sings on their deliverer, who, not being a ed to stand in need of immediate assistance.' philosopher, was no more ashamed of praying • So immediate,' said Fantom, that I would with them than he had been of working for not let her come into my house, for fear of them. Mr. Trueman, while assisting at the what might happen. So I packed her off, fire, had heard that Jenkins and his wife with her child in her arms, to the workhouse; with orders to the overseers not to let her want for any thing.'

'And what right bave you, Mr. Fantom,'

were both very honest, and very pious pen. ple; so he told them he would not only pay for their new lodging, but undertook to raise a little subscription among his friends at the

much pleasure, that Jenkins and his wife thought a christening, not a season for merry-making, but a solemn act of religion. And they dedicated their infant to his Maker with becoming seriousness.

Trueman left the cottage and got back to Mr. Fantom's just as the family were going to sit down to dinner, as he had promised.

Cat and Bagpipes towards rebuilding their Next day Mr. Trueman was obliged to go cottage; and farther engaged, that if they to London on business; but returned soon; would promise to bring up the child in the as the time he had allotted to spend with Mr. fear of God, he would stand godfather. Fantom was not yet elapsed. He came down This exercise of Christian charity had the sooner indeed, that he might bring a given such a cheerful flow to Mr. True- small sum of money which the gentlemen at man's spirits, that long before he got home the Cat and Bagpipes had cheerfully subhe had lost every trace of ill-humour.- scribed for Jenkins. Trueman did not for'Well, Mr Fantom,' said he gayly, as he get to desire his wife to make up also a quanopened the door, now do tell me how you tity of clothing for this poor family, to which could possibly refuse going to help me to put he did not neglect to add a parcel of good out the fire at poor Jenkins's? Because,' books, which indeed always made a part of said Fantom, I was engaged, sir, in a far his charities; as he used to say, there was nobler project than putting out a fire in a lit- something cruel in that kindness which was tle thatched cottage. Sir, I was contriving anxious to relieve the bodies of men, but was to put out a fire too; a conflagration of a far negligent of their souls. He stood in person more dreadful kind a fire, sir, in the extinc- to the new born child, and observed with tion of which universal man is concerned-I was contriving a scheme to extinguish the fires of the inquisition. Why, man, they don't blaze that I know of,' returned Trueman. I own, that of all the abominable engines which the devil ever invented to disgrace religion and plague mankind, that inquisition was the very worst. But I do not believe popery has ventured at these diaboli- When they sat down, Mr. Fantom was cal tricks since the earthquake at Lisbon. not a little out of humour to see his table in So that a bucket of real water, carried to some disorder. William was also rather the real fire of Jenkins's cottage, would more negligent than usual. If the company have done more good than a wild plan called for bread, he gave them beer, and he to put out an imaginary flame which no long- took away the clean plates, and gave them er burns. And let me tell you, sir, dread- dirty ones. Mr Fantom soon discovered ful as that evil was, God can send his judg- that his servant was very drunk; he flew ments on other sins besides superstition; so into a violent passion, and ordered him out of it behoves us to take heed of the other ex- the room, charging that he should not appear treme, or we may have our earthquakes too. in his presence in that condition. William The hand of God is not shortened,' sir, obeyed; but having slept an hour or two, 'that it cannot destroy, any more than it and got about half sober, he again made his cannot save.' In the meantime, I must re-appearance. His master gave him a most peat it; you and I are rather called upon to severe reprimand, and called him an idle, serve a neighbour from perishing in the drunken, vicious fellow. Sir,' said Wilflames of his house, just under our own win-liam, very pertly, If I do get drunk now dow, than to write about the fires of the in and then, I only do it for the good of my quisition; which, if fear, or shame, or the restoration of common sense had not already put out, would have hardly received a check from such poor hands as you and I.'

'Sir,' said Fantom, Jenkins is an impertinent fellow; and I owe him a grudge, because he says he had rather forfeit the favour of the best master in England than work in my garden on a Sunday. And when I ordered him to read the Age of Reason, instead of going to church, he refused to work for me at all, with some impertinent hint about God and Mammon'

country, and in obedience to your wishes.' Mr. Fantom, thoroughly provoked, now began to scold him in words not fit to be repeated, and asked him what he meant. Why, sir,' said William, you are a philosopher you know; and I have often overheard you say to your company, that private vices are public benefits; and so I thought that getting drunk was as pleasant a way of doing good to the public as any, especially when I could oblige my master at the same time.'

Get out of my house,' said Mr. Fantom Oh, did he so?' said Mr. Trueman. Now in a great rage.I do not desire to stay a I will stand godfather to his child, and make moment longer,' said William, so pay me him a handsome present into the bargain my wages.'-Not I, indeed,' replied the Indeed, Mr. Fantom, a man must be a phi- master; nor will I give you a character; losopher with a vengeance, if when he sees so never let me see your face again.' Wila house on fire, he stays to consider whether liam took his master at his word, and not the owner has offended him. Oh, Mr. Fan- only got out of the house, but went out of tom, I will forgive you still, if you will pro- the country too as fast as possible. When duce me, out of all your philosophy, such a they found he was really gone, they made a sentence as Love your enemy-do good hue-and-cry, in order to detain him till they to them that hate you-if thine enemy hun- examined if he had left every thing in the ger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink;' house as he had found it. But William had I will give up the blessed Gospel for the Age got out of reach, knowing he could not stand of Reason, if you will only bring me one such a scrutiny. On examination, Mr. sentiment equivalent to this.' Fantom found that all his old port was gone, and Mrs. Fantom missed three of her best

Vol. I.

17

new spoons. William was pursued, but without success; and Mr. Fantom was so much discomposed, that he could not, for the rest of the day, talk on any subject but his wine and his spoons, nor harangue on any project but that of recovering both by bringing William to justice.

Bible tells me that God is love; not mere ly loving, but LOVE. Now do you think a Being, whose very essence is love, would permit any misery among his children here, if it was not to be, some way or other, or some where or other, for their good? You forget, too, that in a world where there is sin, Some days passed away, in which Mr. there must be misery. Then, too, I suppose, Fantom, having had time to cool, began to God permits this very misery partly to exerbe ashamed that he had been betrayed into cise the sufferers and partly to try the prossuch ungoverned passion He made the best perous; fo: by trouble God corrects some excuse he could; said no man was perfect, and tries others. Suppose now, Tom Saunand though he owned he had been too vio- ders had not been put in prison, you and I lent, yet still he hoped William would be -no, I beg pardon, you saved your brought to the punishment he deserved. In guinea; well then, our club and I could not the meantime,' said Mr Trueman, seeing have shown our kindness in getting him out; how ill philosophy has agreed with your nor would poor Saunders himself has had man, suppose you were to set about teach- an opportunity of exercising his own paing your maids a little religion? Mr. Fan- tience and submission under want and imtom coolly replied, that the impertinent prisonment. So you see one reason why retort of a drunken footman could not spoil God permits misery, is that good men may a system. Your system, however, and have an opportunity of lessening it.' Mr. your own behaviour,' said Trueman, have Fantom replied, There is no object which made that footman a scoundrel: and you I have more at heart; I have, as I told you, are answerable for his offences.'- Not I a plan in my head of such universal benevo truly,' said Fantom; he has seen me do no lence as to include the happiness of all manharm; he has neither seen me cheat, gam- kind.'-Mr. Fantom,' said Trueman, I ble, nor get drunk; and I defy you to say I feel that I have a general good will to all my corrupt my servants. I am a moral man, brethren of mankind; and if I had as much sir.' money in my purse as I have love in my

6

'Mr. Fantom,' said Trueman, if you heart, I trust I should prove it: all I say is, were to get drunk every day, and game eve-that, in a station of life where I cannot do ry night, you would, indeed, endanger your much, I am more called upon to procure the own soul, and give a dreadful example to happiness of a poor neighbour, who has no your family; but great as those sins are, and God forbid that I should attempt to lessen them! still they are not worse, nay, they are not so bad as the pestilent doctrines with which you infect your house and your neighbourhood. A bad action is like a single murder. The consequence may end with the crime, to all but the perpetrator; but a wicked principle is throwing lighted gunpowder into a town; it is poisoning a river; there are no bounds, no certainty, no ends to its mischief. The ill effects of the worst action may cease in time, and the consequences of your bad example may end with your life; but souls may be brought to perdition by a wicked principle after the author of it has been dead for ages.'

one else too look to, than to form wild plans for the good of mankind, too extensive to be accomplished, and too chimerical to be put in practice. It is the height of folly for a little ignorant tradesman to distract himself with projecting schemes which require the wisdom of scholars, the experience of statesmen, and the power of kings to accomplish. I cannot free whole countries, nor reform the evils of society at large, but I can free an aggrieved wretch in a workhouse; I can relieve the distresses of one of my journeymen; and I can labour to reform myself and my own family.'

Some weeks after this a letter was brought to Mr. Fantom from his late servant William, who had been turned away for drunkenFantom. You talk like an ignoramus, ness, as related above, and who had also robwho has never read the new philosophy. All bed his master of some wine and some spoons. this nonsense of future punishment is now done away. It is our benevolence which makes us reject your creed; we can no more believe in a deity who permits so much evil in the present world, than one who threatens eternal punishment in the next.

Trueman. What! shall mortal man be more merciful than God? Do you pretend to be more compassionate than that gracious Father who sent his own Son into the world to die for sinners?

Mr. Fantom, glancing his eye over the letter, said, It is dated from Chelmsford jail; that rascal has got into prison. I am glad of it with all my heart, it is the fittest place for such scoundrels. I hope he will be sent to Botany Bay, if not banged.'- O, bo! my good friend,' said Trueman, then I find that in abolishing all prisons you would just let one stand for the accommodation of those who should happen to rob you. General benevolence, I see, is compatible with particuFantom. You take all your notions of the lar resentments, though individual kindness Deity from the vulgar views your Bible gives is not consistent with universal philanthropy.' you of him. To be sure I do,' said True- Mr. Fantom drily observed, that he was not man: can you tell me any way of getting fond of jokes, and proceeded to read the leta better notion of him? I do not want any of ter. It expressed an earnest wish that his your farthing-candle philosophy in the broad late master would condescend to pay him one sunshine of the Gospel, Mr. Fantom. My visit in bis dark and doleful abode; as Le

wished to say a few words to him, before the dreadful sentence of the law, which had already been pronounced, should be execu

ted.

Let us go and see the poor fellow,' said Trueman; it is but a morning's ride. If he is really so near his end it would be cruel to refuse him.'Not I truly;' said Fantom; ⚫he deserves nothing at my hands but the halter he is likely to meet with. Such port is not to be had for money! and the spoons, part of my new dozen! As to the wine, said Trueman, I am afraid you must give that up, but the only way to get any tidings of the spoons is to go and hear what he has to say; I have no doubt but he will make such a confession as may be very useful to others, which, you know, is one grand advantage of punishments; and, besides, we may afford him some little comfort.' As to comfort he deserves none from me,' said Fantom; and as to his confessions, they can be of no use to me, but as they give me a chance of getting my spoons; so I do not much care if I do take a ride with you.'

When they came to the prison, Mr. Trueman's tender heart sunk within him. He deplored the corrupt nature of man, which makes such rigorous confinement indispensably needful, not merely for the punishment of the offender, but for the safety of society. Fantom, from mere trick and habit, was just preparing a speech on benevolence, and the cruelty of imprisonment; for he had a set of sentiments collected from the new philosophy which he always kept by him. The naming a man in power brought out the ready cut and dried phrases against oppression. The idea of rank included every vice, that of poverty every virtue and he was furnish ed with all the invectives against the cruelty of laws, punishments, and prisons, which the new lexicon has produced. But his mechanical benevolence was suddenly checked; the recollection of his old port and his new spoons cooled his ardour, and he went on without saying a word.

the attention of the criminal, who now lifted up his eyes, and cast on his late master a look so dreadful, that Fantom wished for a moment that he had given up all hope of the spoons, rather than have exposed himself to such a scene. At length the poor wretch said, in a low voice that would have melted a heart of stone, 'O, sir, are you there? I did indeed wish to see you before my dreadful sentence is put in execution. Oh, sir! to-morrow! to-morrow! But I have a confession to make to you.' This revived Mr. Fantom, who again ventured to glance a hope at the spoons. Sir,' said William, 1 could not die without making my confession.' Ay, and restitution too, I hope,' replied Fantom: where are my spoons?' Sir, they are gone with the rest of my wretched booty. But oh, sir! those spoons make so petty an article in my black account, that I hardly think of them. Murder! sir, murder is the crime for which I am justly doomed to die. Oh, sir, who can abide the anger of an offended God? Who can dwell with everlasting burnings? As this was a question which even a philosopher could not answer, Mr. Fantom was going to steal off, especially as he now gave up all hope of the spoons; but William called him back :

.

Here,

Stay, sir, stay, I conjure you, as you will answer it at the bar of God. You must bear the sins of which you have been the occasion. You are the cause of my being about to suffer a shameful death.-Yes, sir, you made me a drunkard, a thief, and a murderer' How dare you, William,' cried Mr. Fantom, with great emotion, accuse me with being the cause of such horrid crimes? Sir,' answered the criminal, from you I learned the principles which lead to those crimes. By the grace of God I should never have fallen into sins deserving of the gallows, if I had not overheard you say there was no hereafter, no judgment, no future reckoning. O, sir! there is a hell, dreadful, inconceivable, eternal!' through the excess of anguish, the poor felWhen they reached the cell where the un- low fainted away. Mr. Fantom, who did happy William was confined, they stopped at not at all relish this scene, said to his friend, the door. The poor wretch had thrown him-well, sir, we will go, if you please, for you self on the ground, as well as his chains see there is nothing to be done.' would permit. He groaned piteously; and was so swallowed up with a sense of his own miseries, that he neither heard the door open, norsaw the gentlemen. He was attempting to pray, but in an agony which made his words hardly intelligible. Thus much they could make out— God be merciful to me a sinner, the chief of sinners!' then, suddenly attempting to start up, but prevented by his irons, he roared out, O God! thou canst but as a fellow-sinner, I am bound to do not be merciful to me, for I have denied thee; what I can for this poor man. Do you go I have ridiculed my Saviour who died for home, Mr Fantom, and finish your treatise me; I have broken his laws; I have derided on universal benevolence and the blessed his word; I have resisted his spirit; I have effects of philosophy; and hark ye, be sure laughed at that heaven which is shut against you let the frontispiece of your book repreme; I have denied the truth of those tor- sent William on the gibbet; that will be ments which await me. To-morrow! to- what our minister calls a PRACTICAL ILLUSmorrow! O for a longer space for repent-TRATION. You know I hate theories. this ance! O for a short reprieve from hell!' is realizing; this is PHILOSOPHY made easy Mr. Trueman wept so loud that it drew to the meanest capacity. This is the pre

'Sir,' replied Mr. True:nan, mournfully, you may go if you please, but I shall stay, for I see there is a great deal to be done.' What!' rejoined the other, do you think it possible his life can be saved.' 'No, indeed,' said Trueman; but I hope it is possible his soul may be saved.' 'I do not understand these things,' said Fantom, making toward the door. Nor I neither,' said Trueman;

of ours,'

cious fruit which grows on that darling tree, warning to all masters and mistresses to take so many slips of which have been transplant-care what they converse about while sered from that land of liberty of which it is the vants are waiting at table. They cannot native, but which, with all your digging, tell how many souls they have sent to perdiplanting, watering, dunging, and dressing, tion by such loose talk. The crime for will, I trust, never thrive in this blessed land which I die is the natural consequence of the principles I learnt of my master. A rich Mr. Fantom sneaked off to finish his work man, indeed, who throws off religion, may at home; and Mr Trueman staid to finish escape the gallows, because want does not his in the prison He passed the night with drive him to commit those crimes which lead the wretched convict; he prayed with him to it; but what shall restrain a needy man, and for him, and read to him the penitential who has been taught that there is no dreadpsalms, and some portions of the Gospel.-ful reckoning? Honesty is but a dream But he was too humble and too prudent a without the awful sanctions of heaven and man to venture out of his depth by argu-hell. Virtue is but a shadow, if it be stripments and consolations, which he was not ped of the terrors and the promises of the warranted to use: this he left for the clergy- Gospel. Morality is but an empty name, if man-but he pressed on William the great it be destitute of the principle and power of duty of making the only amends now in his Christianity. Oh, my dear fellow-servants! power to those whom he had led astray. take warning by my sad fate; never be They then drew up the following paper, tempted away from a sober service for the which Mr. Trueman got printed, and gave sake of a little more wages: never venture away at the place of execution. your immortal souls in houses where God is The last words, confession, and dying speech not feared. And now hear me, O. my God, of WILLIAM WILSON, who was executed though I have blasphemed thee! forgive me, O my Saviour, though I have denied thee! at Chelmsford for murder. Lord most holy, O God most mighty, deliver me from the bitter pains of eternal died for sinners. death, and receive my soul for His sake who

WILLIAM WILSON.'

I was bred up in the fear of God, and lived with credit in many sober families, in which I was a faithful servant; but being rempted by a little higher wages, I left a good place to go and live with Mr. Fantom, who, however, made good none of his fine Mr. Trueman would never leave this poor promises, but proved a hard master. Full of penitent till he was launched into eternity, fine words and charitable speeches in favour but attended him with the minister in the of the poor; but apt to oppress, overwork, cart. This pious clergyman never cared to and underpay them. In his service I was say what he thought of William's state.not allowed time to go to church. This When Mr. Trueman ventured to mention his troubled me at first, till I overheard my mas- hope, that though his penitence was late, yet ter say, that going to church was a supersti-it was sincere, and spoke of the dying thief tious prejudice, and only meant for the vul on the cross as a ground of encouragement, gar. Upon this I resolved to go no more; the minister, with a very serious look, made for I thought there could not be two reli-this answer: Sir, that instance is too often gions, one for the master, and one for the brought forward on occasions to which it servant. Finding my master never prayed, I too left off praying: this gave Satan great power over me, so that I from that time fell into almost every sin. I was very uneasy at first, and my conscience gave me no rest; but I was soon reconciled by overhearing my master and another gentleman say, that death was only an eternal sleep, and hell and judgment were but an invention of priests to keep the poor in order. I mention this as a

does not apply: I do not chuse to say any thing to your application of it in the present case, but I will answer you in the words of a good man speaking of the penitent thief:

There is one such instance given that nobody might despair, and there is but one, that nobody might presume'

Poor William was turned off just a quarter before eleven; and may the Lord have mercy on his soul!

THE TWO WEALTHY FARMERS;
OR, THE HISTORY OF MR. BRAGWELL.

PART I-THE VISIT.

IN SEVEN PARTS.

MR. BRAGWELL and Mr. Worthy happened to meet last year at Weyhill fair. They were glad to see each other, as they had but seldom met of late; Mr. Bragwell having removed some years before from Mr. Worthy's neighbourhood, to a distant village, where he had bought an estate.

Mr. Bragwell was a substantial farmer

and grazier. He had risen in the world by what worldly men call a run of good fortune. He had also been a man of great industry; that is, he had paid a diligent and constant attention to his own interest. He understood business, and had a knack of turning almost every thing to his own advantage. He had that sort of sense, which good men call cunHe was too ning, and knaves call wisdom.